Transfusion
by Dark Amystika
Summary: Dracula 2000 A vagrant girl in a shootout gets a transfusion of blood from a blood bank. But then Dracula calls to her to revive him with her blood. Will she unleash the ultimate evil on the world once again? Can she resist? R&R to find out!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Dracula 2000" or any part of it, etc., etc.

**A/N:** I know this is kind of a teaser chapter, but the sooner I get a nice review, the sooner I update.

**ER**

_'With all these damned lights flashing overhead, it's a wonder I don't get a seizure.'_

That was my thought as I was wheeled desperately into the ER. I was suspended somewhere between living and dying and I knew it. Well, life had given me nothing but back pains anyway. Might as well accept it. I was going to die.

"Nurse! We need an emergency team in the ER stat, this girl's been seriously injured!"

_'They might as well give up. I'm hemorrhaging badly and they know it.'_

"We need a blood transfusion, we've got to save her!"

_'Doesn't matter.'_

"What blood type it she? Have we found out yet?"

_'Doesn't matter.'_

"The results just came back…AB negative. Damn it, we don't have enough!"

_'Doesn't matter. Nothing does. Not you, not me, not the son of a bitch who shot me. You can't help me, thanks anyway for trying.'_

"What's her name? Call to her, see if we can get a response!"

_'You'd only laugh at my name, though I carry it with pride. Whoa, the lights…they're all blurring together. Huh, I guess you really _do_ see a light at the end of a tunnel. Cool.'_

"Ebony? Ebony, c'mon, hang in there, you're gonna be OK!"

_'No, I'm not. I'm dying. I'm dead. I've been shot three times, it's a miracle I lasted _this_ long!'_

"Doctor! We've found another supply of AB negative! We'll have just enough if we can stop the bleeding."

_'Try taking the bullets out. No, that'll just make me bleed more I guess. Oh well. I'm out of suggestions. Damn, this is really uncomfortable.'_

"Look! Did she just move? It looked like she just shifted!"

"Stay with us, Ebony, hang on!"

_'Still doesn't matter. Ow!'_

"She's definitely still alive, she just twitched when I inserted the needle. We've stopped the bleeding, she's gonna make it!"

_'Really? Wow, I must say, I'm impressed. And it takes a lot to impress me.'_

"Well, we can thank our lucky stars and, uh, Mary Heller, whoever she is, for donating the blood she needed."

_'Heller? Cool name. Haven't heard it before. I'll have to thank this Mary Heller if I ever meet her. Unlikely. Wow, I'm tired…'_ Exhausted from the blood loss and the pain from being shot, I let my eyes close.

_"Ebony…"_

My eyes opened again. Who had spoken? The doctors said they didn't know my name. And they way whoever said it, it was like a prayer, or…or a summons.

_"Ebony."_

And again. What a charming voice. Curious, I turned my head as best I could and saw a man standing near, smiling at me. A very handsome man too, but in a somehow dangerous way. Curly black hair fell to the nape of his neck, midnight-blue eyes gazed into me, he stood with his hand clasped loosely just watching me. He was dressed all in black: black jeans, black shoes, black trenchcoat. He wasn't wearing a shirt, exposing his rock-hard six-pack abs, which I tried not to stare at. I struggled to hold onto consciousness, but it was slipping away.

_"Sleep now, child. I'll be with you when you dream. And I'll be waiting for you when you wake."_

Still curious, but more tired than ever, I let her eyes close, holding the man in sight for as long as possible until darkness overwhelmed me.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** It's only fair to say that I have five completed chapters ready, but after that I'll only be able to update as often as my schoolwork and current bout of mono will allow. But I'll be working hard, don't worry.

Visitor

I woke slowly, wondering why I didn't smell the faint, smoky after-scent of my incense, and why my bed was so flat, and why my shirt was so itchy. It all came rushing back to me: walking home from selling junk to old Hob, someone following, the grizzled man shooting me, slowing my heart rate and blood pressure with a special method of breathing, the woman who screamed when she found me and called the hospital, the ER, the man…wait, the _man_. Who was he? I didn't know, and I suddenly felt that it was imperative that I find out on the instant. I started to rise, then felt a sharp pain in both shoulders and just below my ribcage. I winced, which only hurt more. I wondered how I had survived. Even if I had managed to control my breathing to slow the blood flow, hadn't at least one of the bullets pierced a major organ or artery or something? God, was my would-be assassin's aim so poor? I smiled grimly as I lay back down slowly. The room was dark, but suddenly darkness was not comforting anymore. The shadows were cold and unfeeling now. I shivered, wanting my mom. I wondered if she had found out yet. For no reason at all, I felt tears forming at the corners of my eyes. Shaking, I closed my eyes, trying to will them away, but I soon found myself crying. I hadn't been an award-winning daughter lately, and I knew it, but I hadn't seen a problem until now. I still loved my mom and tried to take care of both of us. I dropped out of school to take odd jobs around the city. That's how I met old Hob, the wheeler-dealer who would buy whatever I had to sell, whether it be stolen goods, junk I just picked up off the street, or stuff I bought and told him was worth more than I had paid - in essence, I ripped him off. I guess he finally caught on and wasn't too pleased. I resolved to kill that son-of-a-bitch as soon as I was out of the hospital.

"Bastard," I whispered. "Bastard! He tried to kill me, that sonofabitch! Damn him! I'll kill him! I want my mom!" And I cried. I really did want my mom. I wanted to hug her and apologize for getting to be the way that I was: a thief and a vagrant. I was just trying to make ends meet for us so we could keep living reasonably well and keep our house. What if I hadn't made it and her last memories of me were of a derelict pickpocket and shoplifter? I silently promised myself that I would try to change for her. I would still help her out and try and raise money for us, but I wouldn't do any more business with shady dealers in dark alleys. But still I cried. And I realized that I hadn't cried in at least six years and it just felt so good and so bad at the same time. I turned on my stomach and buried my face in my pillow in its scratchy linen pillowcase, but I felt like I was drowning when I did that, so I turned on my back again. By and by my sobs became less violent, and I lay crying quietly, tears streaming unchecked down my face from the corners of my closed eyes. Suddenly, I felt a cool, silky hand on my forehead, gently stroking my hair. The too-smooth fingers ran lightly down my cheek, brushing away my tears. I opened my eyes and found myself looking up at the black-haired man I had seen before, now gazing down on me in concern. When he saw me staring at him, he smiled.

_"You're going to be all right,"_ he said in an echoy, strangely distant, voice. _"Rest now, little one. Everything will be fine. I'm watching over you."_ Something in his voice made me trust him, and I smiled as I fell asleep.

_"EBONY!"_ came a delighted, relieved cry, jolting me awake. I mumbled something unintelligible, even to my own ears, and looked around. When I saw who it was, I smiled.

"Hi Mom," I said. She just threw her arms around me, nearly choking me with her love and concern, crying for joy and relief. "Ack, Mom," I gagged. "_Air._"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, honey," she said, but she only squeezed me tighter. I rolled my eyes, but hugged her back. "Oh baby, I was so afraid when I heard…"

"Don't be afraid, Mom," I said. "I'm all right now. I'm gonna be fine." We sat like that for some time, until the nurse, a pretty, dark-skinned lady, came in. She smiled when she saw us. My mom pulled back and smiled at her.

"She's gonna be just fine," the nurse told my mom.

"Thank you," whispered Mom.

"I understand. I've got two of my own," replied the nurse. "I don't know what I'd do if I heard that this happened to them. But your Ebony is quite a fighter. She was determined not to die."

"Not yet, at least," I muttered, but I smiled. The nurse reflected my smile back at me.

"Well, you take care of her," she told Mom. "I'll leave you two alone, but I should warn you now that the police and C.S.I.s are going to be in and out of here asking questions. Brace yourself." I laughed, which hurt.

"Thanks for the heads-up," I said. The nurse laughed and left.

"I'm staying overnight with you tonight," said Mom. I smiled and told her I was glad.

"And I'm sorry," I added in afterthought.

"What for?" asked Mom.

"Everything," I replied heavily. "Dropping out, dealing with Hob, stealing, making you worry, everything." Damn, I was going to start crying again. To my surprise, Mom hugged me.

"I love you," she said. "I'll admit, I didn't like what you were doing. But it could have been so much worse. At least you weren't dealing or doing drugs, or selling your body. You were just trying to help, and help you did. I didn't like your methods, but we needed the money. But it's all right now. I've finally gotten a good job at Carfax, working for the Sheppards, and we're going to find out who did this and get a huge courtesy payoff. And I want you to go back to school." This caught me by surprise. Mom never told me she wanted me to do something. In truth, I enjoyed my freedom. But I didn't want to upset Mom anymore.

"OK," I said, trying not to sound resigned. Mom smiled and kissed my forehead.

The whole rest of the day was spent answering questions and talking with Mom. It was rather late when they finally stopped coming, so Mom and I decided to just go to sleep. That night, I dreamt of The Man.

_Down the innumerable passages I went, in and out of ancient room filled with textiles, books, old-fashioned dinnerware, and skulls. Rows and rows of hideous skulls, each with a tag and a set of fangs. They lined the passageways I was trying to navigate. I didn't know where I was going, yet I knew I wasn't there yet. Finally I came upon a great door, locked and bolted, barricaded with a gargantuan cross, which was slightly off-putting to one such as myself who doesn't fully understand or particularly care for religion. I knew what I sought was behind the door, though, and so I opened it. I broke the lock and chains with a thought, building up a rage and concentrating it on the lock. I lifted the cross and dropped it carelessly to one side. I reached to open the doors, but they slammed open before I could even touch them. I could hear a furious voice from within the chamber, shouting unknowingly into my mind as I entered slowly._

'Fools! Those fools!

Should know, should have known!

Destined revenge, mine!

Darkness…darkness shall consume!

Blood, rivers of blood!

Break free, let me out!

Oh, hello.'

_I was taken aback at this last thought. It was much gentler than the others, and I knew that they had been indirect but this last one was meant for me._

'Oh, hello, child. A visitor? Hello. You're afraid? Don't be. Perfectly safe. I won't hurt you. Come closer, please.'

_I was confused by this mind-speak. He spoke in short fragments, distorted thoughts, but I could understand well enough. He was right; I was afraid. But there was something about his voice that calmed me. I ventured closer to the great silver coffin before me, from which the thoughts emanated. I ran my hand lightly over the surface, admiring the craftsmanship._

'Yes, go ahead. Look. See. Listen. Learn. Stay with me, maybe? Alone here. Only shadows and spiders. Nothing. Not even Mary.'

_"Mary?" I asked._

'Mary. Keeper. Killed me. But special. You - you're special too.'

_"Me?" I asked, surprised. Only my mother had ever said I was special (her and my shrink, leastways), but I never paid much attention. But the way he said it…I really did feel special. "How am I special?"_

'More special…than Mary. Blood given willingly, unknowingly. Ironic, isn't it?'

_I could tell he was attempting to speak more connectedly, but it was an effort. "Who are you?"_

'Haha…secret now. Only ashes. All I am, ashes. Save me?'

_Once again I was startled. "What do you mean? How? Why me?"_

'I told you…special. Special blood. I need blood…Mary's blood…or your blood. Help me.'

_How was I, a simple girl, supposed to resist such a despairing plea? "What must I do?"_

'Oh, good girl, good girl. Open the coffin. Twist one of the…one of the crosses.'

_I did as he said, and the lid sprang open. I gaped in horror in what I saw: a pile of pulpy ashes in the vague form of a man. "Oh God," I whispered, putting a hand over my mouth to suppress the sickness I suddenly felt. "Oh God. Oh Lord Cernnonous and Aradia, what is this?"_

'You are afraid?'

_"A-a little," I stammered._

'Understandable. I've looked better. I will soon. Now, blood. Over my…my mouth.'

_I looked around for something to cut myself with, and spied a sharp stake lying on a table nearby. I took it up and sliced my palm with it (I wasn't about to slice my wrist!) and tried to squeeze it out in the general vicinity of his mouth. As I stood there bleeding, I watched in morbid fascination as the ashes began to change, harden, reform. I was reeling a little, dizzy from so much bloodletting. I don't know how long I stood there bleeding, but the room very slowly began to tilt backwards…or was that me? I couldn't tell. I fell into strong arms that cradled me gently, and looked up at the handsome face of a dark angel smiling down on me. I smiled a little foolishly, wondering what I could possibly have been afraid of before. What was there to fear in such a beautiful face, with no malice or evil whatsoever? And that smile…oh, how could I have been afraid?_

_"Are you all right?" he asked. I couldn't respond, really, so I just nodded. "Good. You'll be tired for a while, but you'll be all right." He kissed my forehead. "Thank you, child." He looked around, and I realized that he was holding me in his arms. "I'm leaving now. Would you like to come with me?" I _felt_ my eyes brighten as I nodded. He smiled again. "Then we go." And all went black._

"Wait, don't go," I said softly.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Confused, I opened my eyes and looked around. I was back in the hospital room and Mom was sitting on the edge of a rollout bed next to me.

"Oh, it's you!" I said, and began to laugh. Mom looked at me quizzically, then just smiled. She probably thought I was just a little punchy from all the drugs I was on, which would account for the strange dream. But it felt like so much more than a dream. I sighed and sat up against my pillows. Mom looked like she was about to speak, but the nurse walked in at that moment. She was carrying a small, covered metal dish.

"Oh good, you're awake," she said, most likely meaning both of us. "Forensics are done with these, and your mother said you would want to see them." She offered the dish to me and removed the cover. Inside lay three bullets. I smiled darkly.

"She was right," I replied. "I did want to see them. And I would like to keep them, if it's permissible." The nurse looked shocked. Mom looked only a little surprised.

"You want to keep them?" repeated the nurse incredulously. "But they nearly killed you! Won't they remind you of this?"

"Yes," I said coolly. "But I'm not going to run from the past. I'm not afraid of it. I want to keep them so I will remember. And if I see old Hob again, I will show them to him and spit in his face. Dirty, stinking little-" I stopped quickly. "Please, I'd like to keep them." The nurse stared at me, but she set the dish next to my bed.

"Then they're yours, I guess," she said. "Though I still can't believe you _want_ to keep them."

"I have plans for these," I said, smiling again. The nurse left, shaking her head.

"What are you going to do with them?" asked Mom.

"You'll see," I replied. "They're for posterity."

"Gonna show 'em to your kids one day?" asked Mom with a smile.

"Absolutely!" I said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Then I grinned. "If I do have kids, I want to teach them that the world ain't so great a place. It's dangerous. I'm not going to sugar-coat it for them and then let reality slap them in the face later in life when they weren't ready for it." Mom smiled and shook her head.

"Whatever you say, dear," she said. "Now go back to sleep. Tomorrow we get ready to send you back to school."


	3. Chapter 3

First Day

"Class, we have a new student joining us today! Everyone, please welcome Ebony Drag…um…"

"Dragulia," I said, trying not to sigh. I was standing in front of my third class of the day, wearing a black nylon blouse with two velvet dragons on the front and a black tank top underneath, black pants, black boots, a black cloak with dark red lining that my mom had made for me, and my three bullets as a specially made necklace and pair of earrings. This was the third time today I had had to listen to this drivel. No one cared anyway. "It's Romanian."

"Then where's your Romanian accent?" someone asked.

"In Romania," I replied. Turning to the teacher, I added, "As I'm sure you're going ask if I want to say a few things about myself, I think I will. Yes, I am a descendent of Vlad de Dracul, or Dracula, on my mother's side. No, I am not a vampire nor do I drink blood or impale people. Don't be stupid. And yes, the bullets I'm wearing are, in fact, real. Any questions?" Several hands rose. I pointed first at a Goth boy near the back of the room. He seemed like someone I could get along well with.

"What do you mean, they're real?" he asked.

"Exactly what I said," I replied. "The one around my neck was pried out from between two of my lower ribs, and the ones in my ears came from the corresponding shoulders."

"You were shot?" gasped a preppy girl incredulously.

"Haven't I made that clear?" I asked. "I was shot. Do you want to see the scars? They're very pretty." This last remark was scathing and dripping sarcasm. The prep got the hint. The Goth smiled at me. I returned the smile. "Don't you kids read the papers? A girl was shot in an ally by a paid assassin, and not a very good one at that. She survived. She stands before you now." They stared at me in awe. Good, now I had their attention if not their respect. That could come later. I smiled frostily and gave a little shrug. "Where do I sit?" I innocently inquired of my thoroughly spooked teacher. She didn't answer, just gestured for me to take a seat anywhere. Smiling in a way people told me could freeze fire, I made my way down the rows of desks, noting with amusement that the kids were shrinking away from me, praying that I would not sit next to one of them. The Goth in the back, however, smiled at me welcomingly and gestured to the empty seat next to him. I returned the smile and accepted the seat. He leaned over next to me as our teacher tried to start the lesson.

"I'm Damien," he said softly, extending his hand. I took it and, to my surprise, he kissed the back of my hand lightly.

"I'm Ebony," I said, figuring I'd be polite. He smiled. "And I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship." Damien's smile widened to a grin and he nodded. I returned the smile. I liked him immediately. Not only were we of the same dark ilk, but he was physically attractive too: black hair standing slightly on end and shot with gold, adorable deep brown eyes, and flawless practically white skin. His clothes were all black, and somewhat old-fashioned, but old-fashioned was becoming fashionable again anyway. Besides, fashions are for preps. Damien's clothes made a statement about him. They stated that he was different and he liked it, that he didn't care what others thought.

_'All he needs is a pair of black draconic wings and he'd be an Angel of the Night,'_ I thought. I pictured him with aforementioned black wings, and found I rather liked the image. I wondered what he thought of me. I didn't consider myself beautiful, but I thought I was at least pretty. I had inherited my mother's pale skin (made paler by hours in front of a computer screen with minimal lighting and as little exposure to the sun as possible), but I had my father's silvery-grey eyes and glossy raven-black hair that shone with a silvery sheen. People with natural gold highlights in their hair were said to have 'sun-streaks', I have 'moon-streaks'; it makes perfect sense. Well, to me at least. And that's all that matters.

"Are you new around here, or just to this school?" he asked softly.

"Just to the school," I replied. "I've lived here all my life."

"Well, how about I give you the grand tour later? Do you know what lunch you have?"

"D."

"Great, same as me. It's right after this class, actually. We can eat together in the third cafeteria, OK?"

"Sounds great." And I meant it. For the first time since I could remember, I was actually looking forward to spending time with another member of the human race. When was the last time I had actually done that willingly, I wondered? Ah well, it didn't matter. All that mattered was lunchtime with Damien.

The rest of the class just passed me by, pretty much. I wasn't paying attention; I couldn't care less about the Pythagorean Theorem, or why rise-over-run gives you…slope? Whatever. I knew all this already; my dad had taught me. All I cared about was getting out of there so I could spend more time with Damien. I didn't want to be fast, but I found myself strongly attracted to him – on a _spiritual_ level.

I think he felt it too.

Finally the bell rang, signaling our release. There was a mad flurry of kids hastily snatching up books, coats, and other accessories, eager to get out and get food. I was inclined to agree with them in their haste; I hadn't eaten that morning. Bad idea, I know, but I hadn't had the time. Besides, I never ate much anyway. Not that I was anorexic; I just don't eat much.

I stuffed my books haphazardly into my (black) shoulder bag and slung it over my shoulder. Damien was standing near me when I looked up again, but he didn't startle me. Little ever did, really. I simply smiled and gestured for him to lead the way, which he did. The cafeteria was a zoo; no, not quite, because animals at least have the sense not to throw their own food – they throw someone else's. I rolled my eyes, having forgotten what school lunchtime was like. I remembered the food, though, and how it looked and tasted like it had been made out of whatever the chem. lab had thrown out that morning. Or last week. It depended on what you were eating.

"It's not too bad if you don't look at it," said Damien helpfully. I laughed and followed his advice.

"Nope, still bad," I said. Damien simply shrugged.

"So where did you go before here?" he asked. I looked at him silently.

"Can you keep a secret?" I asked in a conspiratorial tone. He nodded, leaning closer. "I dropped out a while ago. By rights, I should be a frosh."

"Why'd you drop out?" asked Damien in surprise.

"My dad was in the 9/11 tragedy in America," I said. "He was in a meeting. After he died, Mom and I struggled to keep living. I dropped out, and ended up getting shot, because I started doing…_business_ with a wheeler-dealer who called himself Hob, or Ol' Hob. I don't know why. After I got to know him better, and he got to trust me, I started ripping him off. I'm guessing he found out and wasn't amused. After my life was narrowly saved in the ER, thanks to the medical team and a blood donor named Mary Heller, I realized what I mess I had made of things. I didn't want to die like that: a worthless thief. It almost killed me to think of what my mom would have done if that was what she last remembered me as. I love my mom; she's all I've got now. I'm all alone otherwise. I promised her I'd try to straighten out, for her sake if not mine. And I'm trying, I really am." Damien didn't speak for a time. Then he gently placed his hand on mine.

"Maybe you don't have to be alone anymore," he said softly. "You can think of me as your friend." I smiled. More than anything I had wanted to hear those words (well, something like that). I turned my hand over and squeezed his.

"Thank you," I said. He smiled and sat back.

"You said the donor's name was Mary Heller?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Why? Do you know her? If I ever meet her, I want to thank her."

"I know her," replied Damien. "At least, I know _of_ her. Most people do. Except she doesn't call herself Mary _Heller_ anymore. Now it's Mary Sheppard."

"My mom works for the Sheppards now," I said in surprise. "At Carfax Antiques. Is her husband's name Simon?"

"Yeah, that's them," said Damien. "You're mom's landed herself a sweet job. One that many will try and appropriate behind her back, I'm sure."

"No one," I said steadily, "will ever hurt my mom and live to tell about it. Or if they do, they will live on in great agony."

"I can believe it," replied Damien with a friendly laugh. "What's your defense?"

I didn't know how to respond at first, then I realized what he meant. "A dagger. Or a bow, actually. I'm also a good shot with a firearm. If all else fails, black-belt karate. But I haven't had to use any of that yet. I go to shooting galleries for fun, and to show up all those machos with their huge and essentially worthless rifles that they don't know the first thing about."

"Swell. Remind me never to piss you off," he said. I laughed freely. "Hey, have you heard about the secret abbey? The one that used to be off-limits to everyone except Mr. Van Helsing before he died?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Ever thought about going down there?"

"Sure, but I don't know if I would. I've heard that a bunch of thieves broke in a few years back and most of them died. Two of them were actually_ impaled_. Creepy, huh?"

"Most definitely. But have you heard what's down there?"

"Something about a faceless evil, or something like that. I wish I could check it out. Minus the deadly booby-traps, of course."

"Of course."

There was a pause for a moment, until the bell jolted us out of out thoughts. We grabbed our books hurriedly and went out into the hall. As I was turning to leave, Damien caught my arm.

"Listen, are you doing anything after school?" he asked.

"I'm going to Carfax. The Sheppards told Mom that I could come there and keep her company while I did my homework, provided I don't go anywhere I shouldn't."

"Well, I was just wondering…do you like horror flicks?"

I grinned, liking where I thought this was going. "Yes. Very much. I _love_ being scared. You know, the safe kind of scared that you know you can live through."

"Well, I wondered if you might be interested in coming to my place later to watch some movies, maybe study together."

"I'll have to check in with my mom first, but I think it'll be OK. After all, it is a Friday. Gimme your number and I'll call later, OK?"

"Sure." We swapped digits and parted ways. I was glad I only had one more class that day, or else I truly think my head would have burst. What the hell did I care what the past participle of _léver_ was? What the hell _is_ a past participle anyway! How could I concentrate on French when my mind was on Damien? And I swear the clock stopped just as the minute had was nearing the twelve. Time actually _froze_ on me, just for a minute there, before the last bell finally rang. I bolted out the door with the rest of the herd when it did.


	4. Chapter 4

**Resurrection**

I knocked on the heavy door of the Carfax building, flashing my security pass up at the camera so the guards would open the doors. Once they had, I entered, my heavy cloak sweeping around me impressively. I smiled at the two men behind the desk as I approached.

"Good afternoon," I said pleasantly (hey, if I was going to be allowed access to the building, I might as well get in good with the guards). "I'm looking for my mother, Tereza Dragulia. Where can I find her?"

The guards smiled at my polite tone. Personally, I felt I was overdoing it. "Take the elevator up to the third floor, down the hall to the left, second door from the last on the right side."

"Thank you." I turned to go and, not for the first time, noticed a huge vault door behind a metal lattice. "What's that?" I asked, suddenly feeling it was imperative that I find out on the instant.

"That's the previous owner's private abbey," said one of the guards. "Now only his daughter, Mrs. Sheppard, has access to it."

"I see." I walked away slowly, never taking my eyes off the door. I found Mom easily enough, and she was so thrilled that I had made a new friend so quickly that she readily agreed to let me go to his house that night. In leaving the building, I passed by that door again; only this time there were no guards.

"Hello?" I called experimentally. No answer, save for my own echo. There was no one there. Grinning wickedly, not even realizing what I was doing, I slipped up behind the desk and hacked into the security system mainframe. I had learned to hack computers for fun from Hob before he tried to have me killed. I found that there were four keys to opening the door: an encrypted passcode, a retina scan, a fingerprint scan, and a voice recognition (not necessarily in that order). Just for giggles, I decoded the passcode, just to see what would happen. The metal lattice rose creakily, baring the safe door behind it. That should have been enough for me, but I was suddenly seized with the desire to see if I could bypass this security labyrinth, the best security system in the world, broken only once with inside help. I guessed I wouldn't be able to bypass the retina, fingerprint, and voice locks then and there, but I found out that they were encrypted to Mary Sheppard now instead of her father. This was an important development. I hacked further into the computer mainframe and managed to find the keys for the locks; that is, what the computer expected to see and hear in response to each lock prompt. I recorded Mary's voice saying "Mary Van Helsing". That was the easy part. Then I dusted the fingerprint scanner and lifted the prints I got. Finally I got a sort of schematic for the retina scan and printed it out. Then I closed everything up nicely so no one would know what had happened. Glancing at my watch, I saw I had some time before I was to go to Damien's place. I knew exactly what I was going to do in that time.

A gel pad fingerprint scanner might have stumped me, but not an optical one. I took a latex glove and patiently and painstakingly etched Mary's prints into it. It took several tries before I was satisfied, but I was tolerant. The eyeball was tougher, though. I'd need a 3-D eye to fool the retina scanner. Knowing that, I went to an old acquaintance that Hob had introduced me to when he taught me to steal. My acquaintance to the eyeball schematics and promised me a likeness by that night. I decided I'd pick it up on the way home from Damien's. Thinking of him, I went back to Carfax, grabbed my bookbag, and headed to his house.

Study and horror flicks eventually led to a long discussion about whether Robert Englund's "Phantom of the Opera" could really be classified as 'horror', and an overnight stay at Damien's, but neither of us minded. Still, I was eager to test my 'tools' and see what was in the vault, so I told Damien I needed to go back to Carfax quickly, grab some sleepover stuff and see my mom (in light of the shooting, he understood completely) and promised I'd be back soon. Carfax wasn't that far from Damien's place, actually. When I returned, the guards were gone again on a coffee break or something (geez, with such lax security it's no wonder the safe was looted!). I had only a few minutes to act.

I began typing almost in a frenzy, staring intently at the screen, my eyes growing wider and wider until I thought they would fall from their sockets. The passcode was simple, as before, but I was worried about the fingerprint scan as I pulled on the glove carefully and placed it on the scanner. I held my breath, waiting…and the computer accepted the scan. The voice recognition was easy, and the eyeball I had picked up was an exact match to Mary's. The great safe yielded to me and I stared, unbelieving. I had broken into the world famous Van Helsing safe? Wicked! Obviously, I had to see what lay inside.

Still grinning that devilish grin of mine, I crept into the great vault and made my way down the creepy, caliginous tunnels. I suddenly realized two things: one, I was walking through the tunnels from my dream, and two, I had no idea where I was going. Yet something seemed to be guiding me, for I found I could not stop walking and my steady stride remained unbroken. I finally came up to a door barred by a great cross. I snorted softly at that. It was chained, however, denying me access to the unimaginable secrets that lay behind it. Or did it? I was somewhat telekinetic, but I didn't know if I had the strength to break the locks. Still, I wanted to try. I concentrated intently on the lock, narrowing my eyes, pursing my lips, staring in utmost concentration.

_Break!_ I commanded it silently. _Break, and let me in._ But it didn't break. It squeaked and twisted, but didn't break. I sighed silently and started to relax, thinking I would just go back quickly before I ended up sealed in here, when something seemed to give me an extra burst of power. The lock shattered. I stared in surprise, then collected myself enough to lift away the heavy cross and open the doors. There was the silver coffin. And into my mind came that furious voice…only it wasn't furious now.

_"Oh, hello again, child."_

"Again?" I whispered, my voice barely a creak in the darkness.

_"Yes, again. You don't remember?"_

"How could I forget? I just was never quite sure…"

_ "Yes. It's real. I'm real."_

"And do you need…me?" I asked, suddenly unable to even think the word 'blood' in this place, in this presence.

_"Afraid?"_

"…Yes."

_"Don't be. Please. Need you. Help me, child."_

How could I say 'no'? He so obviously needed me. I had never felt needed by anyone, not that I could remember at least. I reached into my pocket and took out a Swiss Army Knife that had once belonged to my father. I had taken possession of it after he died. I went over to the coffin slowly, and twisted one of the silver crosses to open it. The rank stench of death and decomposing bodies hit me full in the face like a slap. I gagged and jumped back briefly, then realized that in doing so I might have offended…well, whoever he was. I approached, trying to hold my breath as much as possible, breathing in only through the corners of my mouth as I reached out and slashed the palm of my hand with the knife, holding it out so the blood spilled over the head-shaped part of the pulpy black ashes that filled the coffin. As in my dream, they began to reform again as the blood spilled. I wasn't standing there long, but the ashes reformed completely in the short time that I was. I was dizzy from this assault on my senses and reason, and started to fall back. I waited to hit the stone, but I didn't. The strange creature from the coffin caught me in his arms. But he didn't look quite like in my dream. His skin was chalky and wrinkled, his hair stringy and colourless, his eyes a scleral bluish-white.

"Oh, Ebony," he breathed softly, gazing at me almost in disbelief. "You _are_…real." He smiled at me as he kissed my bleeding hand. The wound healed, leaving no trace. I stared at it, marveling at what I had just witnessed. I heard a gentle laughing, but when I looked up, _he_ was gone and I was standing on my own. I was alone again in the crypt. Shivering, still staring at my hand, I hightailed it out of there before anyone found out. I would have closed up the vault, I really would have, but the guards were coming. I got out of there quickly, flipping open my cell phone and calling Damien to let him know I was on my way back. But all the while, I kept thinking about the frightfully fascinating reforming of the bloody mess of ashes, forming that strange creature. Could he really have been the dark angel from my dream, the one who had visited me in the hospital? I did not know. But I'd be damned if I didn't try and find out!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**Leah: I looked back at what I have written so far and you're right, I am rushing things a bit. I will try to slow down. Thanks for pointing that out . And no, you're not flaming, you're giving me constructive criticism, something I get all too little of. Everyone can feel free to make suggestions, point, stare, and ask questions, as long as it's done civilly. Cheers.

BTW, I've gone back and changed it so that the sleepover doesn't take place on a "school night" so we can have some more Damien/Ebony working. -

Intermission

I hurried back to Damien's, bursting to tell him all that I had just done and seen, and yet certain that would not, nor would I ever, most likely. He and I shared a lot in common – nearly everything, in fact – but I could never tell him what I had seen. I swore I wouldn't. Because I was afraid that if I ever told Damien that I had resurrected a vampire in the Van Helsing safe…

…he'd laugh at me.

So I sealed it inside.

It was getting kinda late, but since all our homework and studying was done, we decided to watch just one more movie. Damien let me choose, since I was his guest, he claimed. I chose _Queen of the Damned._ It had been one of my favourites since I first saw it on my thirteenth birthday when it first came out on DVD and video. Hey, true to the book or not, Stuart Townsend is still _hot!_ Actually, Damien looked just like he had in the "Forsaken" music video on the DVD's Special Features. Y'know, except not black-and-white. Well maybe just a little. Anyways…

We held a long discussion over what Anne Rice might have killed herself over in the movie, what changes we liked, what we hated with genocidal fury, and the sort. We might have carried on all night if Damien's mom hadn't come in to break us up and get us to bed. She had been talking on the phone with my mom while Damien and I were watching the movie. Mom wasn't too sure about me sleeping over a guy's house, but she trusted me not to do anything stupid. That thought never even crossed our minds, really. I may have been a thief, but I wasn't a _slut_. Besides, we didn't even sleep in the same room; Damien's mom set me up nice and comfortable in a guest bedroom. Damien's mom was really nice; I liked her. She reminded me of my mom.

I couldn't fall asleep easily, partly due to my constant thinking of Damien, partly because I'm an insomniac. But I didn't want to sleep just then. I wanted to think of Damien, and how much he looked like that vampire from the abbey. At least, he looked like the vampire had looked in my dreams. Then I just wanted to think about Damien himself. He was so sweet and smart, with a sort of shyness that most Goths don't have but was very attractive in him. I think he was only shy around girls, since I saw him carrying on easily with other guys. Or maybe he liked me…no, I didn't want to go there just yet. That would be setting myself up for a disappointment somewhere down the road. I started humming to myself as I thought of him, and how we could be someday when we had gotten to know each other better and had been friends for a while. Smiling, with thoughts of Damien, the vampire, and Stuart Townsend swirling around in my head, I lay down and fell asleep.

_I hid behind the great statue, listening to the two priests talk and watching the fountain not far to my left. A rather off-putting structure, really; a marble statue of Jesus Christ on the cross with holy water pouring from his hands, feet, and heart. I wasn't well-schooled in Christianity or anything, but I thought that was supposed to be the stigmata or something like that. It didn't really matter to me. What mattered was what the fat, choir-boy-groping priests were talking about:_

_"And you're certain that this is what the Bible dictates?"_

_"Of course. The time has come for a new Crusade. We shall spread Christianity to the four corners of the Earth and save all the lost and decadent souls on this planet. Paganism and atheism run rampant in this godless age, and it is our sacred duty to put and end to it and turn all souls on the proper path to redemption and Heaven."_

_"But what of those who will not let go of the old ways? What of those who will not be saved?"_

_"Then we shall purify them in cleansing fire. They will pay for their sins so that they will be admitted into Heaven and there find truth and peace with God and Christ."_

_I was furious. How dare these hypocritical old farts try to tell people what to believe? Hell, I _was_ a pagan! Who were they to judge me? Didn't they know theocracy is dead? I growled angrily, my hands opening and closing into fists as I tried to calm myself. But I could not be calmed by any means. I was pissed. And I wanted these arrogant old fools to know it._

_With a roar of fury, I jumped up and seized a gold chalice from off a nearby altar. With quick, angry strides I approached the fountain of Christ. With the golden chalice, I smashed in His face. The priests yelled and shouted, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I was fascinated by the changes overcoming the fountain. Blood was pouring from Christ's smashed face, and the holy water pumping out in an imitation of the stigmata was also turning to blood. Grinning triumphantly, I dipped the chalice in the blood collected in the basin below the gargantuan cross and filled it. I turned to the priests, holding the chalice aloft with both hands. In Aramaic, I declared:_

_"The Blood is the Life! And the Life will be _mine!"

_My words reverberating around the church with such volume that the priests clamped their hands over their ears, I threw my head back and downed the blood in the chalice. When I had drained the last drop, I threw my arms out and laughed evilly, letting the chalice fall from my hand with an ominous _clang!_ I felt blood trickling down the corner of my mouth, and I loved it. I just laughed and laughed without stopping. _(A/N: I actually did have this dream; just this next part is made up)_ Then I realized that someone was laughing with me. I lowered my head slightly to see, and I saw the darkly angelic vampire from my dreams. He stood over the bodies of the two priests, now dead, and he smiled at me with approval and love in his eyes. I felt a warmth filling me as I realized that he was proud of me. He loved me, I could feel it. I smiled wider and wider until I started laughing again. The vampire smiled at me, nodding in approval. Louder and louder I laughed, shaking the church until it crumbled…_

…and woke myself with my deliciously dark laughter.

I quickly clamped a hand over my mouth to stop myself before I woke up Damien or his parents. I felt exhilarated for some reason, my heart pounding and my blood rushing as though I had just run a long way or gone on my favourite thrill ride. I could still hear the laughter of that dark angel figure in my ears, and I loved it. When my strange mirth had subsided, I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand by my bed. It was nine-forty-five in the morning, so I just got up and went out to the family room to wait for Damien to wake up. He came out about half an hour later and we watched mindless cartoons on TV for a while, talking about how idiotic they were but laughing anyway. When we got bored with "Spongebob Squarepants", we played "Soul Calibur II" for a while (I totally kicked his butt with Raphael, even when he played as Nightmare or Cervantes) and had breakfast. I didn't tell him about my dream, even though I wanted to. I wasn't sure what he would think. Somehow, though, we did get on the topic of religion and we discovered that we were both nocturnal Wiccans (that is, we were Wiccans who drew power from the energy of the moon and the darkness). We were both good-dark archetypes, and had been practicing for about the same amount of time.

"What really gets me, though, is when people assume that 'darkness' and 'evil' are synonymous," Damien said.

"I know exactly what you mean," I agreed. " 'Darkness' is only the absence of light, just like 'light' isn't 'goodness'; it's illumination. That's why there are the four archetypes: good-light, good-dark, evil-light, evil-dark."

"People just like to believe that the world is something polarized," said Damien, "black and white, you know? And when they find something they can't classify, they become confused. But there is no black or white, only infinite shades of grey. No one on the Earth is pure good, just like no one is really pure evil."

"Right, exactly," I said emphatically. "And people who seem good can be evil. There's been innumerable cases of Father of the Year type figures – the guys who everyone likes, who brings doughnuts and coffee into the office every Wednesday – and they turn out to be deranged psychopaths who lock their families into the house and treat them like prisoners in Iraq. That's where the evil-light archetype makes sense." Damien nodded, smiling.

"My parents don't get it," he said. "But they let me carry on because they think it's a 'phase' I'm going through." I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"I've been going through this 'phase' for six years," I said with a grin. "My mom lets me do it because it gives me something to believe in, since I place no faith in the government, in my country, or in the general human race."

"I'd ask you to put your faith in me," said Damien softly. I smiled.

"We're both nightkind," I said. "We're practically related." We looked at each other and burst out laughing.

The day slipped right through our fingers. Before we knew it, my mom was calling to ask when I'd be coming home. I offered to meet her at Carfax at around nine, and she was satisfied with that. I asked Damien to come with me so he could meet my mother. He was a little skeptical.

"Oh come on, she'll love you!" I insisted. Damien was still uncertain, but he agreed. He said he wanted to walk me home anyway, make sure I got back all right. London's streets were dangerous at night, especially, he said, for a pretty girl walking alone. I laughed and declared that I could defend myself, but I appreciated his concern anyway. We spent the day mostly playing video games and watching more horror movies, mostly in the vampire genre. I was in a vampire kind of mood (gee, I wonder why). Finally eight-forty-five rolled around and I packed my sleepover bag. That done, Damien and I headed off for Carfax. We had a lively conversation about movies and books and music and such, until we reached Carfax I flashed my security badge up at the camera and the guards buzzed me in. Inside, to my surprise, Mary and Simon Sheppard were standing just outside the vault…and it was hanging wide open.

"Evening, Mr. and Mrs. Sheppard," I said uncertainly. Mary looked up, worry lines creasing her face.

"Oh, hello Ebony," she said distractedly. "Your mother's still in her office; go right up.""Uhh," I said slowly. "What happened here? Is something wrong?"

"Oh, something's very wrong," said Simon worriedly. He looked me right in the eyes and said, "The Van Helsing vault has been robbed!"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Leah: The story takes place in London. One of the lines in the last chapter clarifies that. And I'm so sorry it's taken so long to update, but I've had so much schoolwork late, and will for a while.

**In Dreams**

_"What!"_ I gasped, trying not to seem guilty. "Are you serious? That's not possible!"

"I'm afraid it is," said Mary wearily. "I just don't know how this could have happened. All the locks in the safe were encoded directly to me. How could someone have opened them without me?"

"The same way as they did for your father," said Simon grimly. "With inside help."

"I hope you're not thinking of suspecting my _mother," _I began.

"No, no, of course not!" said Mary. "Your mother is a wonderful woman, and I know I can trust her."

"Good," I said, much relieved. I didn't want Mom taking the fall for my wrongdoing. "I was just afraid, you know, this didn't happen until she started working here and all-"

"I know what you meant, and I don't believe a woman with integrity like your mother's could have done this," Mary assured me. I smiled and turned back to Damien.

"C'mon. I want you to meet Mom." Together we went up to Mom's office, and I made the necessary intros. Mom was thrilled to meet Damien, and thankfully restrained her inherent parental instinct to embarrass me.

While Mary and Simon worried about the safe and its contents (or lack thereof, possibly) Damien and I had a great weekend together. We went to see _Dracula: the Play _at a playhouse near Carfax, had a nice dinner together just the two of us (though it wasn't exactly a date, per se) and wandered in and out of all sorts of cool pagan shops on Sunday night. I was truly sorry for the weekend to have ended so soon, but I had school with Damien to look forward to at least.

School seemed to be going well for me. I scored a solo in one of our songs in choir (though the song was so disgustingly religious it almost made me gag to sing it), and two of the girls asked if I wanted to do a song with them for our school's upcoming talent show. I agreed, and we talked about it on the walk to our next classes, deciding to sing "I Put a Spell on You" from _Hocus Pocus._ I would be Winifred, Hana (one of the other girls) would be Sarah, and Brooke (the other other girl) would be Mary. We set up a meeting after school to practice, and swapped numbers and AIM screen names. I got the feeling that I had just made my first ever "gal pals".

Class and lunch with Damien was enjoyable as well, as we spent the whole time discussing supernatural happenings, Wicca, and other such things that frighten most other people because they don't understand them. Damien walked me to Carfax and didn't leave until I was safely inside the building. I was very happy, happier than I had been in a long time.

Mom and I went out to a nice dinner that night, as I had finished all my homework, and had a great time. The waiter, a sweet cutie with an Irish accent, was making eyes at Mom all through the meal. I urged her to talk to him, and she did. It turned out that he was in college and thought Mom was my sister, but he was a good sport about it when he found out that she was my mom. We went home laughing about it. When we returned home it had gotten rather late, so I fed my sanguivorous pet bat, Nocturne, from my fingertip (hey, he didn't need all that much blood), showered, and went to bed. As I drifted off, I hoped I'd either dream of Damien or the Vampire. As it turned out, I got them both.

_Damien and I crouched down together as the Code-C announcement blared out. It claimed that it wasn't a drill, but whoever was in the building was probably just a cop in a student's get-up testing the school. I lay in Damien's arms, smiling. Everything was from a third-person's point of view, so I could see everything around us. That meant I could see the mist seeping under the classroom door, and the silhouette in the window._

_The door burst open suddenly, and everyone shrieked except for Damien and me. We sat up quickly, looking to see what was going on. I stared as I recognized the Vampire from the abbey. I looked at Damien, who was startled and confused._

_"Stay down," he whispered. "I don't think he'll hurt us, but I won't let him lay a hand on you."_

_I almost protested before I remembered that Damien didn't know the whole story yet. So I kept my mouth shut and watched. The Vampire came closer, smiling at us all in a deliciously chilling way. I was scared, and I loved it. I rather hoped the Vampire would chose me out of all the others, but, to my surprise, he looked directly at…Damien. I didn't know what he wanted with Damien, but I prayed he wouldn't hurt him._

_Damien rose slowly, as if in accordance with some unspoken command. The Vampire only smiled wider. Damien was uncertain, his hands clenching and unclenching as though of their own accord, but he didn't move otherwise._

"Come to me,"_ said the Vampire. _"Come to me, Damien."

_"No," said Damien, though I heard a tremor in his voice. The Vampire laughed gently and raised his hand. Suddenly he was barely two inches from Damien, his hands closed around Damien's upper arms. Damien struggled, but he could not break free. The Vampire leaned down slowly, and bit Damien's throat. Several of the girls were screaming and/or crying. I was only staring, fascinated. I felt a lovely shiver go through my body, a strange clenching feeling in my stomach that made my legs shake. I couldn't look away from the spectacle, nor raise a hand to help Damien. Suddenly both he and the Vampire disappeared, and I was alone again._

Here the dream faded out, but it wasn't nearly finished.

_Damien woke lying on a bed in a huge room with a fireplace lighting it all. The Vampire stood next to the fireplace, gazing into the flames pensively. Damien sat up slowly and slid off the bed._

_"I can hear you," commented the Vampire, not bothering to turn around. His voice had lost that irresistible note of command, but not its striking beauty. Damien stopped in his tracks, unsure of what to do. "You're much braver than most men," the Vampire continued. "And I've taken down tried and true men, brave warriors who had hunted my kind for all their lives. Each of them died begging for life. But not you. You stood tall to protect the one you love."_

_"What are you-" began Damien, but the Vampire cut him off._

_"I know you love her, dear boy," he said with a smile, still gazing into the fire. "I could taste it in your blood. I can hear it in every beat of your young heart. You love my Ebony, and sought to protect her from me. Little did you know that she is the one who released me."_

_"What do you mean, 'your' Ebony?" Damien demanded. "She's not a possession!" _

_"A man refers to his daughter as 'my daughter'," replied the Vampire. "I meant the same thing. She was given life through my blood, and so is my daughter."_

_"The transfusion," breathed Damien._

_"Ah," said the Vampire, finally turning from the fireplace to smile at Damien. "Now you understand." Damien took an involuntary step backward._

_"But what do you want with me?" he asked._

_"She loves you too," answered the Vampire. "When she comes over to me, I don't want her to be lonely. I want her to have you." Now he began to move towards Damien, who moved away._

_"Wh-what are you doing?" he asked shakily._

_"Don't be afraid, Damien," said the Vampire soothingly. "It only hurts for an instant." At these words, Damien turned tail and bolted for the door. Somehow, though, he ended up running right into the Vampire's arms. The Vampire laughed. "Ah, you're going to fight for your life. Brave indeed." Damien wrenched free, but the Vampire caught him, not fiercely, by the throat and held him still. Smiling at him, he took Damien's right wrist and raised it to his mouth._

_"No," said Damien, struggling. "Let me go! Let go! Don't!" But the Vampire didn't heed him and his fangs pierced Damien's wrist. Damien gasped and tried to pull free but lacked the strength to combat the preternatural creature. He kicked and hit with his free hand, but none of it even fazed the Vampire. Finally the Vampire released him and Damien stumbled back, clutching his wrist. Blood droplets ran through his fingers, but he didn't take his eyes off the Vampire for an instant. The Vampire only smiled that chilling smile again._

_"One," he said simply. Then he was gone. Damien spun around, eyes darting around wildly._

_"Come out where I can see you, you coward!" he shouted, trying to keep his voice from breaking._

_"As you wish," came a voice form behind him. Before he had time to react, Damien found himself pinned back against the Vampire's muscular chest. He fought, tensing his muscles to keep the Vampire from biting his other wrist, as he was certain he would. But, to his abject shock, the Vampire actually _tickled_ him, effectively loosening his arm. Again Damien gasped as those fangs were driven into the soft flesh of his wrist and the strange sensation of having his blood drained slowly by this voracious creature began again. He weakened as more of his blood was stolen from him. Slowly the Vampire released him, only whispering "Two," in his ear before vanishing again. Damien groaned as he sank to his knees, dizzy and weak, hardly able to stand. A shadow fell over him, and he didn't bother to look up._

_"Here, let me help you!" said the Vampire, raising Damien up and pushing him back so he fell back on the bed. Again Damien groaned, hating this feeling of helplessness, of wanting someone to come and save him. The Vampire stood watching him for a moment, contemplating. Then, to Damien's surprise, he took off his trenchcoat and cut his wrist, holding it close to Damien's mouth. Damien didn't know what to do. This creature, whoever he was and whatever he wanted, was offering him immortality. And he had told Damien he planned to do it to me too. What was Damien to do?_

_Slowly he pushed himself up, only to fall back. The Vampire, his cobalt eyes now filled with compassion and love, sat down on the bed next to Damien and gently raised his head. Damien licked his dry lips briefly before willingly drinking from the bleeding wound. He wasn't sure how long the Vampire – Dracula, as he learned from drinking his blood – allowed him to drink, but it didn't seem long enough. All too soon Dracula pulled away. He rose, watching his wrist heal itself disinterestedly before turning back to Damien. Damien stood, now strengthened by Dracula's blood, looking at Dracula curiously. Dracula smiled at him._

_"Feel better?" he asked. Damien only nodded. "Good." Out of nowhere, he caught hold of Damien, twining his fingers carefully in his hair and pulling his head to the side. Damien struggled, caught off his guard and scared. "Shh," said Dracula gently. "It's all right now." So saying, he bit Damien's throat, draining him. Damien's knees gave out and he sank to the floor, but still Dracula fed off him. Finally the youth had lost too much blood and went limp in Dracula's arms, dead, exsanguinated. Dracula released him and caught him deftly in his arms, laying him gently on the bed. "Sleep now, young one," he said softly, brushing Damien's hair out of his face. "When you wake, _she'll_ be here waiting. I promise you."_

I woke to the sound of my clock radio blaring out a weather report through the static that came from not being properly tuned. I reached out blindly and snapped off the switch that controlled the alarm, still thinking about the dream. It had all felt so _real,_ like it was actually happening while I dreamt it. Was that even possible? Was the Vampire I resurrected in the abbey really _the_ Dracula, Vlad Tepes, Vladislaus Dragulia from whom I was descended? And more importantly, did he really have Damien? Unfortunately, I didn't have the leisure to contemplate it all carefully.

"Rise an' shine, sweetie!" came Mom's irritatingly perky voice. "C'mon, up, up, up! Time for school!" I groaned and got out of bed, shivering in the cold. I thought about the dreams as I dressed for school. Something in me told me that this was much more than a dream, and I needed to see Damien as soon as possible. I was worried, but about what I don't know. All I knew is that I didn't want Damien to go through all that before he learned the truth from me. I had to find him. I had to tell him what I had done. I only hoped that he would be there.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:**Once again, apologies on the lateness. Schoolwork, you know. The educational system screws up everything, and mono doesn't help either. But, better late and good that soon and rushed.

**Code-C**

I hated waiting for Damien. My bus always arrived late in the parking lot so I was always a little late for my first class and couldn't see Damien unless we passed in the halls. He wasn't there, but he usually wasn't in the morning. Still, I was anxious to see him. I couldn't concentrate in Chemistry and ended up spilling hydrochloric acid all over my hand. Chorus was usually a lot of fun, but I kept looking at the clock, restless and worried. I had to see him soon, or I'd lose my mind from waiting. I loved to sing, even the overly-religious songs my choir director chose, but today I couldn't stand it.

"Hey Eb, you OK?" asked Hana quietly. I shook my head.

"I'm worried about someone," I said. "My…friend, Damien." I wanted to call him my boyfriend for an instant, but he wasn't. Not yet. Maybe that could come later.

"Damien McLeod?" asked Hana. "He's in my first block. Talks about you a lot, I might add."

"Was he there today?" I asked earnestly. Hana shook her head.

"Out sick. He wasn't looking so hot yesterday, though he's always pale and all that," she replied. I sighed. This was not what I wanted to hear. Then again, why was I so worried? Eternal life, eternal youth, never get sick, never die, preternatural powers…was there a downside I was missing? Yes, if I were given the choice, I think I would choose to live forever, especially with Damien. Maybe my dream was right, and Damien did love me. I knew I had feelings for him, there was no doubt about that, but I wasn't sure if he reciprocated. I liked to think so, though. We were kindred spirits, he and I. Who knew what we could do together? I smiled darkly as I thought about it. I just wished I could be there with him when he turned, if my dream was accurate. Besides, the dream said that he would be taken in a Code-C during school. We weren't scheduled to have a drill yet, so I guessed--

"Attention! Attention! This is a Code-C drill; repeat, this is a Code-C drill! Attention!"

So much for that one, I guess.

Everyone quickly scrambled to snap off the lights, block the windows, and hide in a far corner of the room. I stretched out on the floor behind the piano, resting my head on my folded arms. I heard a scratching sound coming from behind me for a while, but I put it down to someone scratching on the dry-erase board and ignored it. They'd get hissed at to stop sooner or later. I decided to catch some sleep while I had the opportunity. I didn't really fall asleep, since the drill didn't last long enough, but I rested my eyes at least. When the Code-C ended and we all got up, I stretched out again, rolling my head around and cracking my neck. Someone turned the lights back on all at once, blinding me briefly. Consequently, I did not know what was going on when I heard the first scream.

My eyes snapped open and I looked around. "What's wrong, what happened, what!" I said very fast. Hana grabbed my arm and pointed behind me, her face stark white. I turned to face the board, and my blood ran cold. A shiver ran through me as I saw, etched deeply into the white board, were the words:

_'Ebony…I'm coming.'_

I did what any sane person would do in my position. I fainted.

When I woke up, I was lying in the nurses' office with a cool rag on my forehead. I felt shaky and scared, but I found that I liked it a little. It was as I had told Damien: I _love_ being scared. Still, this was pushing it. How did I know if I could really trust Dracula? Was he really who he said he was in my dream? I was so confused; I didn't know what to do. So I did the only thing I really could do. I got a pass, grabbed my backpack, and went back to class. I hadn't been out long, but the bell was about to ring for the end of second block, so I just headed to third. Damien would have been waiting for me if he had been there. I wished he was so I could tell him about the board in Chorus. But that would have to wait until later; or maybe I could call him during lunch.

I basically slept through most of History, until someone next to me woke me up just before my teacher looked directly at me. I wasn't on drugs, but I didn't want to go through the stupid hassle of drug testing and possible counseling that comes with being caught sleeping in class, so I tried to look like I was remotely interested. It was difficult, as I hate History with a passion. Ancient Rome and Greece are pretty cool, but that's about it and that's not what we were studying. I was nearly asleep again when the intercom blared:

"Attention! Attention! This is a Code-C! There is an intruder in the building! This is _not_ a drill; repeat, this is_ not_ a drill! Attention!"

Oh goody. I didn't know whether I should hope that the 'intruder' was Dracula or just a cop running a check on the school, so I didn't hope for anything and just crouched down on the floor against the filing cabinets in the back of the room where I sat. The room didn't have windows, as it was right in the middle of the building, so it was pitch dark when the lights were turned off. Just to freak a couple people out, I started whistling "Jeepers Creepers" until the teacher hissed at me to be quiet. I grinned and rolled my eyes but didn't respond. She didn't know who had been whistling anyway; there was no reason to let her know. Of course, I got the damned song stuck in my head, but that's the price you pay for a little fun. It didn't really bother me that much anyway, except that I only knew the chorus line of the song. Oh well.

I leaned my head back against the filing cabinets and closed my eyes, not from fatigue but so I could imagine. When in a boring situation like this, I liked to play out movies or stories in my mind's eye to keep myself entertained. Currently I was viewing "Bram Stoker's 'Dracula'" (gee, I wonder why). Somehow, though, Jonathan Harker ended up looking like Damien, Mina looked like me, and Dracula…well, he didn't look like Gary Oldman. Still, it was interesting. I was so rapt in my daydreams that I jumped when I heard the door rattle. Many girls were whimpering, scared. I stretched out my neck as far as I could to see out the small window in the door. I wondered how Dracula, if it was him, could be walking around in the daylight, and then I remembered that he could control the tempest. I had thought it was unusually overcast that morning. I couldn't see anything in the window but a silhouette. The school was public, so Dracula could enter without an invitation, but I wondered about the room specifically.

"Come in, my Dark Prince," I whispered. I didn't know if he could hear me, or if I could invite him in, but the silhouette moved and the door opened slowly with no hand on the knob. The shadowy figure of one Dracula glided into the room. I stared in wonder at him. He was beautiful, like the Dark Angel I had imagined Damien to be when I first met him. His wrinkled, shrunken exterior was now robust and strong. His hair was full and glossy black, his eyes piercing ice-white, his skin smooth and pale, his smile…_enchanting._ I found myself smiling back at him without realizing it. He extended his hand to me, just to me, and I rose willingly. There was no mind control here, no hypnosis. I wanted this, and he knew it.

"Ebony, what are you doing?" hissed a girl behind me.

"It's OK," I said wonderingly. "I understand now." Slowly I walked to Dracula, taking his hand when I was within reach. I could hear Queen's "Who Wants to Live Forever?" singing in my head, and somehow I knew that Dracula was doing it. I gave a small laugh. "Is that a query or an offer?" I asked.

Dracula laughed gently. "That, my love, is entirely for you to decide."

"I don't want to die," I said, informatively not fearfully. Dracula spun me around and caught me up against him. I laughed gaily and Dracula smiled at me, lovingly tilting my chin up.

"Then you never will," he promised. He pushed my heavy hair off my neck, baring my throat. I felt my pulse quicken in anticipation. I nodded, tilting my head ever so slightly to the side, inviting his Immortal Kiss. He willingly indulged me, and slid his fangs into my soft flesh.

Never had I felt such a whirlwind of sensations before. My heart pounded and my blood raced, my body was alive with electricity. I moaned softly, putting my arms around him, inciting him to put his around me. I was shaking with excitement, reeling, swooning. He stopped finally, even though I asked him not to. I realized that we were no longer in my classroom, but floating high above the school. My head fell back without Dracula's hand to support it. He passed his hand over my face, and everything went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long, but I've had a bad case of Writer's Block lately and a lot of homework to do. I'll keep working at it.

_**Carpe Noctem**_

I woke up confused. Was I in the ER again? I remembered passing out, a Code-C…oh, right. Dracula had found me and I gave myself to him. Hmm. I didn't like the sound of that. I belonged to _no one,_ not even Dracula. I wanted to know everything that he had to teach me, but I would not _belong_ to him. I would never do that for anyone.

I sat up slowly and looked around. I was lying on a lavish bed in an opulent bedchamber fit for a princess. Or a prince, actually, as I realized that this was the bedroom where I had seen Damien sired in my dream. I looked around, but he wasn't there. Not that I could see, leastways. Neither was Dracula for that matter. I was all alone. Where was Dracula? Where was _I?_ I rolled my neck around, hearing and feeling it crack sharply, before I slid off the bed. I felt fine, stronger than ever and more aware of everything around me. From a good six feet away, I could feel the pleasant warmth of the fire. What was going on? Why did I feel so…_good?_ Unnaturally good, I mean. Phenomenal, really. Amazing. But why?

"Do you like it?"

I looked over my shoulder. I had heard someone's almost-silent breathing in the doorway for a few moments before. I wondered about that too. "Like what?"

Dracula – for of course it was he – chuckled. "Come stand by me, Ebony." Puzzled, I did so. Dracula stood before a full-length mirror. His reflection didn't appear in it. And neither did mine. I gasped softly, reaching out to touch the glass. I had no reflection; I had no shadow even. I was…not human anymore. Dracula smiled as he put his hands on my shoulders lovingly.

"What? How?" I said softly. "When did this happen?"

"When I took you from your school," Dracula answered. "I took your blood and mixed it with my own when you died. I made you like me. My daughter, given life through my blood."

"The transfusion," I whispered. "Mary Heller's blood was mixed with yours. It _was_ yours."

"Yes." Dracula got a distant, almost sad look in his eyes. "Mary and I were never to be; I know that now. But you are different from her. You haven't been poisoned with foolish Christian ideals about right and wrong, good and evil. You are pure, perfect. My daughter." He smiled fondly at me and brushed a lock of hair out of my face lovingly. I smiled back.

"Where's Damien?" I asked.

"He is resting," said Dracula. "We must not disturb him; he's had a hard first night."

"So you _did_ take him last night," I said musingly. Dracula cocked an eyebrow.

"How did you know that?"

"I had a dream about it. I saw you both in this room. I watched you…sire him. I saw it all, how he fought you and how you killed him. You said you wanted him for me."

"Yes, I did," Dracula was silent for a moment. I looked at him closely.

"Who _are_ you? You are not the infamous Vlad the Impaler, known widely as Dracula and my very great grandfather. I know you're not. I saw something when you drank from me…a memory or something. A tree, and a sunset I think. It might have been sunrise. What was that? Who was the man hanging from the tree? Was that you?"

"Yes, it was," answered Dracula. "It's surprising that you gained that knowledge when I strove to prevent it, but you are unnaturally strong. And I suppose you have a right to know. My name was once Judas Iscariot, but I will no longer answer to that title."

"You're the apostle who betrayed Christ in the story?" I whispered.

"It's no story, my dear," he replied heavily. "It all happened. And as punishment, I was cursed to this existence. Or maybe blessed, in a way. I have overcome that fear of never being released to Heaven. Christ made the world in His image; now I make it in mine. I drink the blood of His children, giving them eternal life when I wish and all the pleasure that He denied them. I shouldn't have been allowed to live after my betrayal. What was once hell on Earth is now my own dark Heaven. I've grown very fond of living, of watching the decades go by, slipping in between them when I wish. I've grown very fond of my supremacy over humans. I enjoy watching them, constantly struggling with each other and their own pathetic notions of how life should be lived. And I've grown very fond of you. From the moment my blood in Mary's entered your veins, I was connected to you. And what a strong connection it was. I sensed in you a kindred spirit; one whose darkness rivals my own. I wanted you, even if you hadn't had my blood. However, then you would not have been able to revive me. Still, I'm sure you would have found a way." I smiled a little.

"Necromancy is a little beyond my reach," I said softly. "But then, you weren't exactly dead." I sighed and stretched. "I have this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach."

"You need to feed," said Dracula. "Come. I will teach you how."

* * *

About an hour later we returned to the castle where I had awakened. Dracula had shown me how to hunt and cover my kill. I had fed on a man who thought he would rape and murder me. Boy was he in for a shock. I wanted to talk to Damien, but he was nowhere to be found so Dracula advised me to just let him come back on his own. He was still adapting. I reached out with my mind, trying to touch Damien's and let him know where I was and that I was OK. I thought I succeeded, but I wasn't quite sure.

Well, whatever. He'd come back soon.

"So…what should I call you?" I asked Dracula. He looked at me curiously. "I mean, you don't like 'Judas', and calling you 'Dracula' just seems weird. So you have another name?" Dracula laughed.

"I have many," he replied. "But you may call me Vladimir. A little generic, I know, but only in your century. That name commanded much fear and respect centuries ago when I first used it."

"I can see why," I said. "It means 'universal ruler' in Slavic. All right. Vladimir." I smiled up at him. He put his arm around my shoulders lovingly, smiling at me. We had done a little shopping in the hour we were away as well; I was now dressed in a gorgeous velvet corset top in black velvet with a blood red velvet front panel and rich gothic embroidery, along with a deep two-tone wine red skirt with soft black net overlay and further top layer that tied around my waist, also of soft black net, with black embroidered edging. I had also gotten some strappy black sandals and gorgeous Gothic jewelry: a black organza choker with a large garnet accent, black chain and multiple mini-sized garnet accents, silver-winged black jewel heart studs in my second earring holes and upside-down dangling bats hanging from blood red jewels in my first holes. On my left hand I wore a Lamentian ring and a Mircalla bracelet on my wrist, both by Alchemy Gothic, and on the right I wore a fabulous old slave bracelet with stunning garnets and intricate filigree metal work that I had gotten on eBay a while back. I felt more beautiful than I ever had before, and I was sure that my natural beauty (what there was) had been enhanced by the transformation. I felt like no man on Earth could resist me, and I liked pretending that it was true (hey, it was my first night as a vampire, I'm allowed to have some fun).

Dracula – I mean, Vladimir – took my hand in his. "There's someone here I want you to meet. A friend of mine. His presence here I suppose is sort of a gift to you."

"What do you mean?" I asked, smiling. I loved the mystery and intrigue that Vladimir's very presence exuded. I loved his way of speaking, how everything was a big mystery. He smiled at me and led me to the fireplace in my bedchamber. The fire had long since gone out, so Vladimir reached back and pressed a stone in the fireback. To my surprise, the fireback opened up to reveal a winding, descending stairway. Vladimir walked in – the fireplace was so tall that even he could walk through standing upright – and turned back to me with a smile. Slowly, seductively, he offered his hand to me. I took it, trusting him not to lead me to danger. Down we went, into the deep darkness. After what seemed like a long time, we came to a chamber at the bottom of the stairs. Inside was decorated in a very Spartan style: a desk and chair, a few candelabra around the room, a wardrobe, and a large bed in the very middle. Lying in the bed was a handsome man with glossy black hair, which shone with a silvery sheen like moonlight, hanging down to his chin in the front and tied back in a ponytail that brushed his shoulder blades in the back. He was rather pale, but not quite as pale as I was – or had been when I was alive. The man wasn't wearing a shirt, revealing a very muscular build and a terrific six-pack that I quickly looked away from. This man was so familiar…I was sure I had seen him before.

Before I could finish my musings, the man stirred and rose, stretching slowly. I watched him, vaguely fascinated with his every movement. Why did I know him? Where had I seen him before? I felt I was about to get my answer, but I wasn't sure if I would like it.

"Vlad? Is that you?" the man asked groggily. "Oi, how long did I sleep this time?"

"Only an hour past sunset," replied Vladimir coolly. "Now, there's someone here you have to meet."

"Oh, sure," said the man distantly, rubbing his eyes and slipping out of bed.

"Gerry, I'd like you to meet Ebony," said Vladimir, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Ebony Dragulia." The man – Gerry – froze. Then, slowly, he raised his head and looked at me with silvery-grey eyes. Silvery-grey eyes exactly like _mine._ I gasped as I realized now where I knew this man from.

"_Daddy?"_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** I'm really really sorry I haven't updated in so long, and for the shortness of this chapter, but I've had major Writer's Block and I've just been getting sick right and left lately. I'll keep working on it, though.

**Revelation**

_"Daddy!"_

That's right: Daddy. The man who was supposed to have died in the 9/11 tragedy, and here he was sitting right in front of me. I stared at him for a moment longer, and he at me, until I made a squeaky sort of sound and rushed to him, laughing and crying at the same time. I couldn't believe it; my father was alive! How? How was it possible?

"How?" I croaked. "How is this possible?" Gerard – my father – held me closer still.

"Oh Ebony, is that really you?" he whispered. "It's wonderful to see you again, my little beauty."

"Daddy…" I croaked, then stopped, unable to say anything more.

"It's all right now," said Dad gently. "I'm here again. I'll never leave you ever again, I swear. As for how this is possible, well, I'm not sure exactly. Everything's a bit fuzzy. I remember being badly burned and having several broken bones. I crawled from the burning wreckage of the Towers, delirious, unable to remember who I was, where I was coming from, where I was going. Then I remember waking up in a hospital with no idea how I had gotten there or why I was there. When I saw the bandages and casts on my body, I screamed. I had to be restrained for a while, until I calmed down. I didn't remember anything; I had suffered severe head trauma during the attack. I guess I've been in the hospital this whole time; then Vlad came and found me a few days ago. Next thing I know, I'm waking up here, I remember everything, and I don't have a reflection anymore. I'm still not sure how it happened, but I don't care anymore. Sweetheart, I missed you so much." I hugged him again, still hardly able to believe it all. Everything I thought I had lost had returned to me.

"Oh Dad," I said softly. Then I rose slowly and looked back at Vladimir, who smiled at me. I smiled back as I approached him. I looked into his eyes for a moment before gently laying my hand against his cheek and pulling him close to me. My lips brushed his in a light, friendly kiss. "Thank you," I whispered. I turned back to my father with a broad smile. "There's someone I want you to meet, if I can find him."

"Ah, Damien?" Dad asked. I nodded. "Vlad's told me about him. I'd like to meet this young man who makes you so happy."

"I'm going to see if I can find him," I said, though I was loath to leave my father after so long thinking he was dead. Seeming to understand this, Dad smiled.

"I'll be right here waiting for you when you do," he said. I smiled at him and left, squeezing Vladimir's hand on my way out. Honestly I didn't even know where to _start_ looking for Damien, but he had to meet my dad. I knew they'd get along well.

I searched for a good long time around the castle until I finally found the armory, and with it Damien. He was skulking in a corner, brooding, moody. I looked at him curiously. The 'Dark Blood', as it's called in Anne Rice's novels, hadn't changed him much. Then again, his appearance could have been termed 'vampiric' beforehand. I guess mine could've too. But I didn't really care about that at the moment. I smiled as I approached him. He looked up and jumped to his feet when he saw me.

"Ebony," he said in relief. "Oh thank god, I was afraid I was too late."

"Too late for what?" I asked, confused. "I wasn't in trouble."

"That's what he _wants_ you to think," replied Damien, "but I don't think that's true. I don't trust him, Eb. Dracula wants you for something, and I'm just an accessory. He doesn't need me, and I think he'll try to get rid of me at the soonest chance."

"Damien, what are you talking about?" I asked with a small laugh. "Vladimir hasn't done anything to us. Damien, my father's _alive_ because Vladimir saved him!"

"That just proves my point!" insisted Damien. "He's trying to gain your trust, though for what reason I don't know."

"Damien, you're not making any sense," I said with a frown. What was wrong with him? Couldn't he see we'd been given a great gift? Did he have something against Vladimir? Or was it…I gave a little laugh as I realized what it must be. "Oh Damien, do you think that Vladimir's going to come between us? I promise, that would _never_ happen. We're still…friends, OK? Don't get so defensive."

"THAT'S NOT IT AT ALL!" howled Damien. I was startled, and I let him see it. Damien caught his breath and composed himself before saying, "That's not it. Ebony, I'm afraid of what he wants you for. You didn't hear what he said to me when he took me."

"Yes I did," I said gently. "I saw it all in a dream. He said I was his daughter because I was given life through his blood. He said he sensed a darkness in me that rivaled his own. I'm not afraid, Damien. You don't have to be either. He won't hurt us. Now, I really want you to meet my father. Come with me." I turned to leave.

"I love you."

I froze. Slowly I looked back at him over my shoulder. "What was that?" I asked softly, hardly able to hear my own voice.

"I love you," repeated Damien, coming towards me with his hands out in an almost desperate gesture. "I love you, and I don't want to see you get hurt. Please, Ebony, just think on it. I don't trust him."

I turned to face him fully now. "I love you too. But I truly don't think that Vladimir wants to harm either of us, or use us for some dark purpose. But I trust you, Damien. I'll be careful; I promise. All right?" Damien smiled and took me into his arms, stroking my hair lovingly.

"There's something more," he said softly. "When I was 'dead', if you will, and beginning to change, I saw something strange. I saw Dracula standing on the rooftop of a tall building and all around him was destruction and chaos, people running in fear, vampires ruling the streets. I saw a world ruled by Dracula and his undead hordes. And at his side was a wicked and beautiful sorceress-princess. She was evil and bloodthirsty, dangerously beautiful, manipulative and heartless. _And she was you, Ebony. The destroyer of the world was you."_


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** I am _so_ sorry it's been so long, but I've have projects and exams coming out my ass lately and just haven't had the time. Plus, I've had a bad case of Writer's Block concerning this story, so this chapter'll be a little short. And, for vets of "Government Funding", the same thing goes for that too. I'll do my best for now and have a brace of new chapters over Spring Break, hopefully.

**Paranoia **

I didn't know what to make of Damien's words. I couldn't imagine myself destroying the world. While I'd often thought about it in fits of rage, I wouldn't actually do it…would I? I didn't _think_ so. While I could see myself making vampires the rulers of the Earth, I didn't think I'd do that either. But now I was worried. Damien might be right. How was I to know?

"Let's go somewhere," I said quietly. "Somewhere…else. Out of here. Away. Into the night." Damien nodded and took my hand. We left the castle, swift and silent as secrets. Neither of us needed to feed, so we just went to look for a place far from…well, wherever we were. Even once we were out in the crisp night air, I had no idea where Vladimir had taken us. We were in a mountainous area, leaving me to wonder if he had taken us to the actual Castle Dracula in Transylvania. If so, I was getting back to my roots. And my mother was probably more than half-frantic with worry. Well, I'd go back and explain it all to her soon enough. I hoped…

Damien and I soon found a cozy little cemetery where we could make ourselves comfortable. I lit atop one of the headstones, and Damien hopped lightly up on the one next to it. We talked for a long while, mentally and physically, for we found we could communicate telepathically now. The night was beautiful, cool with a warm, gentle breeze and a velvet sky full of stars. The full moon illuminated it all for us (not that we needed it), gently lighting the soft hills of the cemetery where we sat. It was so peaceful and lovely, broken only by my continuous biting of my lips and tongue with my new fangs.

"Just be more careful how you talk," said Damien with a laugh. "I did the same thing at first."

"Yeah, yeah, you're not that much older than me, smarty," I grumbled, but I couldn't keep from smiling.

_"What_ in the name of _God _are you _doing!"_

Damien and I looked up, startled. We had been so absorbed in each other that we hadn't paid attention to the world around us and consequently hadn't noticed the two women who had come up the hill towards us. Damien and I both blinked in surprise.

"Uhh…" Damien said cleverly.

"Sitting together, enjoying a nice evening?" I tried.

"On _our grandparents' graves!" _cried one of the women.

"I…sorry," I said, sliding to the ground. Damien quickly followed suit. "We've just been having a rough time of things lately, and we wanted to be somewhere quiet together."

"You were _sitting on graves!"_ cried the second woman. I refrained from rolling my eyes with great difficulty.

"Yes, we've established that," I said. "And I apologized. Can we move past that now?"

"How _could_ you!" asked Woman #1. "How could you commit such a _sacrilege!"_

"Look lady, I said I was sorry," I said, now growing angry. Great. Born-Agains. Just what I needed after all that I had been through that night. "I said I was sorry, and now I'm going to leave and probably forget about all of this by tomorrow because it's just not worth hanging onto!"

"You speak blasphemy!" cried Woman #2.

I gave her a cold, twisted mockery of a smile. _"Fluently."_ Damien laughed softly.

"I wish you a week in Hell for desecrating our family's graves!" declared Woman #1.

"Hey, _hey!"_ I shouted angrily. "He's _your_ god, they're _your_ rules, _you_ burn in Hell!" Damien laughed outright this time. I gave an animalistic snarl. I couldn't help it.

"Ebony, be careful!" Damien cautioned me. A moment too late, because the women had already seen my fangs and the unnatural way my eyes glowed in fury. I snapped at them, literally, and they both jumped back with cries of fear.

"What in the holy name of God _are_ you!" they cried.

"God's busy at the moment," I said sarcastically. With an agitated growl, I turned and started walking away. Damien followed me. I could still hear the women talking about me quite clearly, but I didn't care. This was, after all, the land where the vampire legend was supposedly born (although vampire tales really began much earlier in Asia). By tomorrow they'd probably just figure they had seen some rebel teens wearing plastic fangs and looking for trouble in the night. It didn't matter.

I was in a bad mood for some reason after that and I wanted to feed. I was able to scan people's minds, I found, and I soon found a man who was out prowling the streets looking for a victim to rape. I let him see me walk into a dark alley and listened as he followed me.

"Excuse me, miss," he said with false politeness. "Are you lost? Are you looking for someone?"

"Actually, yes," I replied. I turned very slowly and let him see my eyes glow with bloodlust. _"You."_ I grinned, revealing my fangs. The man turned to run, but I was in front of him in an instant. I seized him by his coat lapels and hoisted him off the asphalt. Wanting to test my new strength (and take out displaced aggression on this scumbag) I threw him as far as I could. He landed on the other end of the alley in a pile of trash bags. I was on him in an instant, viciously driving my fangs into his jugular and drinking the hot, adrenaline-pumped elixir that pumped forth. I stopped before he died – not because I was afraid I would die too if I took all his blood or something – and shoved him to one side so he fell over a storm drain. With my mind I called to two junkyard dogs nearby and told them to attack the man. They did as I said, tearing out his throat with their sharp teeth, clawing and biting him until he died. There was blood everywhere, despite all that I had drunk. The police would assume that that had washed down the storm drain. I smiled sinisterly, remembering all the episodes of "C.S.I" that I had watched with my mother. I was reeling in ecstasy; I wanted to kill and kill again, purge the streets of filth like the bastard I had just slaughtered. I wanted to tear a burly man apart with my bare hands while I fed on him until he died, writhing in my arms, never knowing what the hell happened. I threw back my head and laughed, deep, dark laughter that shook forth from a place in me I never knew was there. God, I felt so _powerful._ And I found that I liked it. It was like a drug, an addiction, but this would have no repercussions. I wanted more of this feeling, more of this power. I wanted to find another victim and break him like a twig over my knee. I turned to Damien to make this suggestion…and then I saw the look in his eyes. He was horrified at my brutality. I looked at him, confused suddenly. I looked back at the remains lying in the gutter (god, was that really once a man?) and then back at Damien. I frowned nervously. I remembered what he had said about his dream, and suddenly I saw it too: there I stood, wearing a long gown of ink-black that pooled on the ground around my feet, the straps made of rhinestones, crisscrossing in a spiderweb pattern across my bare back, my hair in a knot at the back of my head, my wrists, fingers, ears, and throat all bedecked with glittering diamonds. I stood beside Vladimir, who sat on the guardrail beside me, and we watched, smiling darkly, as hoards of the undead marched through the streets. And I started to laugh, a horrible laugh that rang with echoes of other's pain and suffering.

"Ebony!"

"Ah!" I shook my head as Damien brought me back to my senses. I looked up at him, stunned. "I saw it. I saw it just like you said it."

"The dream," said Damien softly. We just stood for a moment, until Damien slipped his arms around me and held me close to him. "It's going to be all right. I'm going to take care of you. I won't let him use you for this. I won't let it happen." I hugged him tightly.

"I love you," I whispered. "Always remember that there is no power strong enough to change that. Make sure that _I_ remember." I looked up at him and managed a smile. "C'mon. Let's see what's playing at the theatre tonight." Arm in arm, we left the grisly scene.

**A/N:** I'm starting on a new PhanPhiction and I want to post it, but I still have so much work on this and "Government Funding", and I feel really bad about making you all wait for chapters, but tell me what you think I should do, I listen to you guys.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Again, my apologies for the delay. I'm afraid I might have to put this and "Government Funding" on ice for a while because my brain is overflowing with new ideas for new stories and none for these two. Also, I will be changing my penname to DreamSpinner when I get a new review on this chapter, so be on the lookout. One last note, my new PhanPhiction isn't running as strong as I would like, so I'll be posting a different new story based on video games, mostly "The Legacy of Kain" and "Legend of Zelda".

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Walking in the Air", _Tanz der Vampyr_ or _Dance of the Vampires_. If you need info on either one, go here: http(colon slash slash)www(dot)old-hickory(dot)demon(dot)co(dot)uk(slash)Tanz(underscore)der(underscore)Vampire(dot)htm Just put the symbols in where the words are.

**Look Ma, I'm Dead!**

As it turned out, we _were_, in fact, in Transylvania, but both Damien and I could speak German well, so it wasn't a big problem. We slipped into the theatre that night to a wonderful performance of Roman Polanski's _Tanz der Vampyr_, easily confusing the feeble mind of the ticket-taker and getting ourselves prime seats. Usually we'd be whispering together about mistakes made or other things like that, but tonight we were silent. We were both so confused now. The musical seemed to be perfect for our present situation. Was Vladimir Count von Krolock? Was I Sarah? Was Damien Alfred? So many questions, so many confusions, I didn't know what to do. But I did know one thing for certain:

I had to see my mother.

Damien knew what I was thinking without even trying to read my mind. He squeezed my hand lovingly, smiling at me when I looked up at him as if to say, _If you want to, then we'll go._ I smiled.

_I want to see the end of the play, _I told him with my mind. _I've only ever seen the comedic Broadway version before. We'll go see her after the show._ Damien smiled and nodded his agreement, though I could feel his trepidation. I was nervous too. What would my mom think of me now? What would she say if I told her that Dad was alive…in a manner of speaking, at least. Would she still…love me? How would she react? Did I have any right to do this to her? Then again, how could I not? How could I let her suffer needless heartache over the death of her daughter that didn't even happen? I decided to push all these thoughts to one side so I could enjoy the rest of the performance in peace.

The audience swelled to its feet for the finale, Damien and I included. When I was little I had always wanted to be onstage. I fell hopelessly in love with he musical _The Phantom of the Opera_, and nothing would have made me happier than to one day 'light up the stage with that age-old rapport' as Christine Daaé.

Well…_almost_ nothing.

Damien and I left the theatre quietly, slipping out to the streets hand-in-hand. Damien kissed my cheek lovingly and I smiled at him. _Are you ready?_

_As ready as I will be,_ I answered. Considering we were in Transylvania we had to fly back to London to see my mom. We wrapped our arms around each other and tried to feel weightless, feel ourselves rising off the ground and taking to the sky. Soon we were soaring high above the clouds, watching the people down below who still lingered in the dark streets. I didn't know the way, but I knew who I wanted to see and I let that image guide me. I wasn't in control anymore, but that didn't scare me. Nothing ever did. I held tight to Damien, nestling my head in the nook between his neck and shoulder that every man has. Smiling dreamily, I began to sing:

"_We're walking in the air  
We're floating in the moonlit sky  
The people far below are sleeping as we fly_

_We're holding very tight  
I'm riding in the midnight blue  
And finding I can fly so high above with you_

_All across the world  
The villages go by like dreams  
The rivers and the hills, the forests and the streams_

_Children gaze open-mouthed  
Taken by surprise   
Nobody down below believes their eyes_

_We're surfing in the air  
We're swimming in the frozen sky  
We're drifting over icy mountains floating by_

_Suddenly swooping low  
On an ocean deep  
Rising up a mighty monster from his sleep_

_We're walking in the air  
We're dancing in the midnight sky  
And everyone who sees us greets us as we fly…"_

I let my voice trail off, gazing at the endless diamond sky. I was enchanted with the beauty of it all…so enchanted, in fact, that I didn't realize where we were until I felt solid ground under my feet. We had landed on the roof of the house where Mom and I had been living. I stepped back from Damien slowly, feeling very lightheaded and unused to the ground after flying so far. We held onto each other for balance until we could each stand on our own. I jumped off the roof, landing soundlessly on the grass below. Damien followed suit.

"What were you planning?" he asked gently. I looked up at him sadly.

"I thought we'd use the front door," I answered. So saying, I approached the door and rang the bell. A few moments later, Mom answered. She looked so haggard and sick, but she lit up when she saw me.

"_EBONY!"_ she practically screamed, grabbing hold of me and crushing me in a warm embrace that smelled pleasantly of spring air and clean laundry. I smiled and buried myself in her arms, feeling like I was finally home again.

"Mommy…" I whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh baby, I was so scared," Mom sobbed, having not heard me. "When I heard what happened, I…well I didn't know what to think! Oh Ebony, sweetie, I'm so glad you're safe! What happened to you, honey?"

"I'll tell you, but you'll neither like it nor believe it," I said heavily. Not letting her question this odd statement, I told her the whole story quietly and slowly, in excruciating detail. Mom's arms tightened around me as I spoke until I finally finished. I leaned back and looked up at her face. It was a mask of shock. I couldn't blame her. What would I have thought if…actually, I shouldn't even go there. There was a very pregnant silence for a long time, until I ventured to ask, "What do you want me to do? Do you want me to show you?" Mom only nodded, apparently not trusting herself to speak. I slipped out of her warm embrace and stepped back a few paces. I wondered what I could do to show her that I was telling the truth. I picked up a huge rock and broke it in my hands. I levitated a few feet off the ground and hovered in the air for a few minutes before floating back down. Mom stared at me in horror. Blood tears burned my eyes. "Mommy," I croaked. "It's still me, Ebony. Please don't turn away from me. Please say you still love me."

"Oh, honey…" whispered Mom, one hand over her heart. "Of course I still love you. You're my baby. But…but…"

"I know," I said softly. "It's so much to take in. But it's still me here. Only my body's changed. My heart is still the same. I'm still the same old Ebony." I smiled and Mom smiled back. "And Daddy wants me to send his love," I added as an afterthought. "He's back with Vladimir at the castle. He wants to see you again so much." Mom nodded, tears in her eyes as she smiled. "Oh Mama, don't cry. Everything's going to be OK now."

"I know," said Mom, wiping her eyes. "I'm just so…happy. I have my daughter back, and my husband is still alive! I may not like what you have become, but you're still alive! That's wonderful!" She gave a little laugh and my smile stretched. "There's just one thing I need to know."

"Ask anything," I said, spreading my hands in a giving sort of gesture.

"Have you…_killed_ anyone?" Mom asked. I flinched slightly, then clasped my hands behind my back and looked up at her in a guilty sort of way.

"Yeah, but they were all bad," I said innocently.

The laughter of a mortal woman and her immortal daughter shook the stars that night.


End file.
